


Just Like Hentai

by BadProducer



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, Classroom Sex, Creampie, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, F/M, Face-Fucking, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Hentai, Multiple Orgasms, Older Man/Younger Woman, Rough Kissing, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Seduction, Stripping, Table Sex, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-05 10:55:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18364598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadProducer/pseuds/BadProducer
Summary: Stuck in one-on-one remedial classes, Futaba decides to make the best of the situation and attempts to recreate a scenario straight out of her favorite doujinshi.Clumsy seductive antics ensue. [Commissioned by Kinky no Kyoukai]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _Commissioned by Kinky no Kyoukai_

__

* * *

_**Just Like Hentai** _

by 

 **Bad Producer** ( **[Dirty Computer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DirtyComputer/pseuds/DirtyComputer) **x **[WaddleBuff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaddleBuff/pseuds/WaddleBuff)** )

* * *

 

The final bell of the day had rung out at least an hour ago, and the high school was now empty. Club members and faculty were about the only people left, but one exception sat in a vacant classroom, front and center in the middle of an empty row of desks and seats.

Futaba squirmed excitedly, eyes glued to the door as her long legs kicked impatiently below the desk. She was giddy. So giddy, in fact, that she had to take off her signature parka and lay it on the desk next to her; her squirming was getting Futaba sweaty.

It had been ages since she'd set foot onto a school campus, much less a classroom.

Normally, the very thought of enrolling back into school disgusted her. When the idea was brought up by Sojiro, and then encouraged by Ren and the rest of the Phantom Thieves, Futaba had more than her fair share of resistance, citing her already-vast share of knowledge to be more than sufficient to find some career down the line (if she ever even wanted a legitimate one).

Of course, everyone insisted that it wasn't just about the education, but the " _experience_ ". Making new friends, joining clubs, yadayada, the same ol' tripe she expected. Again, Futaba cited the lack of a need for such experiences when she had the Phantom Thieves. Their camaraderie was something she obviously cherished, and the memories they made along the way wasn't something that could so easily be forgotten.

With her signature adamance, it seemed that getting Futaba back into the educational system was an impossible feat.

It wasn't until Futaba was informed of  _how_ she was to be let back into school that her interest in high school was suddenly piqued.

Very, very thoroughly.

So what was the reason that finally pushed her into the seat she now giddily squirmed in? The reason that made Futaba make her way her to the high school on her own volition, on her own accord?

It was what she waited for, more specifically,  _who_ she waited for as her eyes sparkled in taut anticipation.

The mystery man whose footsteps would soon click and echo down the hall leading to the opening slide of that door.

Or, as Futaba labelled him in her head, her " _Faceless Protagonist_ ".

Futaba sat excitedly in that empty classroom for her teacher not because of the promise of accelerated academics, the prospect of being tested and rigorously put through the wringer for the purpose of placing her into the proper curriculum.

No, Futaba sat and waited there, mouth watering at the prospect of being the star of her own real life hentai, a starlet in a doujin of her very own making.

And this mystery sensei was going to (hopefully!) be her fat ugly bastard of a co-star.

Futaba shifted her thighs against each other again.

She was getting wet just  _thinking_ about it.

Futaba remembered when she flipped through the portfolio Sojiro had handed her, a itinerary of sorts that he had requested from the school in the off-chance that she would accept the offer to be let back inside.

It was one line, one singular line that made her eyes go wide, that made her gulp in perverted excitement:

_Student expected to attend one-on-one remedial classes with teacher on designated school days until deemed ready for reintegration._

Or, as Futaba read it in her own depraved little mind:

_Student expected to be alone in a room with an old, probably ugly and very repressed teacher, probably resorting to rough sex to pass._

The very thought of it was too dirty, too  _hot_ to pass up. Flashes of the hundreds of hours of hentai and hundreds of pages of doujins she'd consumed ripped through her all at once that night, and she fantasized about the opportunity to no end, putting her favorite Bad Dragon toy to  _good_ use as she filled herself, cumming into a squealing hot wet mess just  _imagining_ some tanned and faceless BBM stretching her out into his own personal cumdump.

She'd never actually  _had_ sex, of course, but what better way to lose her v-card than to indulge into any depraved hikikomori's wet dream?

It only took a couple days of filling out paperwork and answering a few questions through the phone, and now Futaba was finally here, all ready to spring her trap.

Her mind was reeling, racing as she tried to picture who would walk through that door.

Futaba's eyes flickered to the clock.

He was late.

Two minutes late, to be precise.

And it was driving her wild.

_Come on, come on, come on!_

It was at the four minute mark, where Futaba now resorted to impatient pacing, that the door of the classroom slowly slid open, and her mystery man (thank God!) walked through.

With her breath caught in her throat, Futaba's salacious eyes grubbily ate every solitary inch of her doujin co-star-to-be...only to be met with  _severe_ disappointment.

For starters, the guy who walked in through the door was  _way_ too young. He looked to be in his early thirties, hell, probably his late twenties! There goes her DILF fantasy...

Second, he was far from obese. In fact, the polyester suit he casually donned hung kind of loose on his admittedly fit frame, accentuated by a decent jawline. And here Futaba was fantasizing about one of those huge beer belly guts smacking into her back when she was being railed over a desk…

And lastly, the trait of this relatively young teacher that left Futaba the most conflicted was solely the fact that this guy was...pretty goddamn handsome. He was  _miles_ from that ugly bastard with the wire-frame glasses she was expecting, especially since the school office had informed her that he was  _also_ the school principal on top of being homeroom teacher.

No, if Futaba had to draw comparisons, his scruffy young look reminded her of Eikichi Onizuka, minus the blond and the signature earring.

Futaba gave in. Despite her misgivings about his appearance, Futaba decided in those few seconds that a teacher was still a teacher, and the taboo was still a taboo. She'd still live out her own hentai, fat, ugly, old, or not.

From here on out, she would spring her trap, and have this GTO knock-off railing her on top of a desk within the week.

Her eyes eventually went up to meet his, and they shared a short look before he broke the silence with a sigh.

"So you must be Miss Sakura?"

Futaba nodded, taking note of the fact that he obviously didn't want to be here.

She could use that.

Another sigh, but more subtle this time as he turned to close the door.

"Alright. Well, take a seat then, and I'll go over your new curriculum with you."

Futaba did so, eyes stuck on him as he nonchalantly went to his desk, rifling through stuffed folders and papers in his bag. He really didn't seem like the principal type, and his circumstances on becoming one briefly highlighted themselves in her mind.

In due time, her first session with her new teacher passed, uneventfully.

It was too early for her to even attempt to get a rise out of him, but she took heavy note of his reactions and overall demeanor during the short session; he seemed disinterested and bored and restless throughout the entire ordeal, mechanically reading through the curriculum, through lesson plans with no hint of interest or passion.

It was perfect. Futaba rifled through all the sorts of ways she could entice him in the following weeks, before being caught with a pleasant surprise when she got up after being dismissed.

On her way out with jacket in hand, she could catch the principal's reflection in the glass of the small window slit on the classroom's sliding door.

More importantly, she could catch the principal's eyes in his reflection, conspicuously glued to the curve of her ass, accentuated by her short shorts.

An excited blush blossomed on her cheek, and Futaba's mind raced.

_Oh my God, this is a flag! Think Futaba, think! What would some oblivious cumdump bimbo in High School DxD do?_

Her first instinct told her to drop her parka jacket on the floor.

"Oops!"

She bent over, making sure she jut out her ass  _just_ right, channeling as much gravure as she could.

It was a show that lasted in the span of a second as she pretend-fumbled for her jacket before Futaba stood back up and briefly turned back towards the principal. It took a moment for his gaze to move up to her face, and it was obvious that under that disinterested visage, he was feeling a little hot under the collar.

Futaba gave him the most innocent smile she could.

"Until tomorrow?"

"...y-yeah. Have a good night, Miss Sakura." a beat, then, "And even though it's after-hours, I expect you to come in your uniform from now on. Your dress isn't appropriate."

She pranced out the door, pulse rapidfire as she internalized the sensation of having a man check her out like that, remembering the brief glimpse of that guy's lust in the reflection.

Like hell she was ever going to wear a uniform around him.

 

* * *

 

As quickly as Futaba thought she was progressing, two weeks passed without anymore progress.

It was as if her little harem anime cliche stint didn't even happen.

No, the principal went on with the long, dry, grating lesson plans, reciting long, dry, grating lessons, and making her do long, dry, grating assignments. In between times, Futaba would steal glances and try to make some eye contact, maybe play coy and pretend she was the bashful, crushing student type, but even that was to no avail; the principal always had his nose buried in some kind of book.

On the bright side, the principal proved to at least be pretty chill.

It didn't take a week for Futaba to talk to him as something else other than a dick on legs, and in due time she found that Mr. Faceless Protagonist was an easy target for her teases and fun to annoy with her constant onslaught of pop culture references and stupid jokes, getting an annoyed "Really, Miss Sakura? Again?" every night she'd show up without her uniform, or covered it with her favorite parka.

But chill or not, Futaba was at her wits end; it was getting to the point that Futaba  _needed_  to fuck this bastard just to skip past all of this tedious, mind-numbing work.

It was by the end of the first month that Futaba finally decided that if she wanted action, she'd have to take it in her own hands. No more suggestive little hooks or flirty little one-liners. If she wanted that hentai reality, she'd have to make it happen herself.

She was going to go for her most aggressive tactic yet, and it revolved around her lack of adherence to the dress code.

 

* * *

 

Futaba's heart was pounding as fast as it did the night she had bent over to pick up her parka.

It was in the middle of one of her remedial lessons that she started one of her little begging stints, something that she was sure would get a sexual rise of the principal in weeks prior, only to be shot down, no matter what.

This time would be different. It had to be. So Futaba abruptly stood from her desk, took a deep breath, and went all in.

"Are you  _positive_  I can't do  _anything_  else, teach?" Futaba said in a mewl, trying her best to imitate the husk she'd heard in a JAV featuring a schoolgirl in the exact same situation.

The only difference was that the schoolgirl in the JAV was probably in her mid-20s, her mewl didn't come off as a whine, and the "teacher" she was appealing to was already gawking at her, not dismissing her as he always did, his nose buried in some self-help book for millenials in school administration.

Futaba couldn't help but puff her cheek in a pout. It was like trying to seduce a brick wall.

"No means no, Miss Sakura," he replied, face still inside his book. "You've already tried bargaining at least five times these past few weeks, and I've told you every time: the only way to get in is by getting through the prerequisites."

He paused, peering above the cover of the book to look at Futaba standing in front of his desk, hands plunged in her jacket. She was still pouting. He let out a sigh, exasperated.

"Seriously, Miss Sakura. I'm starting to question if you even really want to be back in school, or if you applied to just bother me."

 _Close_ …

He continued.

"If only you'd apply more effort into your remedial work instead of all the games and pop culture you keep spouting, then I can finally get out of your hair and you'd start living a normal high school life." He eyed her one more time before returning to his book. He shook his head.

"And for the  _last_ time. You're on school grounds, please take off that parka."

He didn't see the grin that spread on her cheeks as she licked her lips. She had him  _exactly_ where she wanted him. Here was the moment of truth.

_Checkmate, Mr. Faceless Protagonist._

There was a rapid zip, and the sound of rustling nylon. And, to the principal's surprise, no quip or smartass remark. He smiled.

"That's much more like it," he said, not hearing the rustle of papers and the sound of denim shorts hitting the floor. "Now if you'd kindly just head back to your desk, we can finally start with today's remedial lesson."

"Mm. Nah, I think I'll stay right here,  _teach_." Futaba said, her voice suddenly merely inches from in front of his book.

He lowered his book, jaw dropping at the sight of Futaba sprawled on top of his desk, the naked expanse of her pale skin bare for him to see, from the pink teats atop her small, budding breasts, to the sweet and hairless valley between her stocking-clad thighs.

He was speechless, and Futaba could only giggle in a devious Cheshire's grin as he dropped his book. His mouth was still hanging open when her hands grabbed him by the back of his head, and shoved it down onto hers.

Futaba shoved her tongue past his lips, lips clasping onto his in a juvenile attempt to kiss. It took a few moments of her soft, small mouth opening and closing on his own before his senses returned, and he struggled before breaking free from her grasp, kicking away on his rolling chair to crash into the whiteboard behind him.

Unfortunately for him, even with the retreat, Futaba was still less than a foot away from him.

...and from the sudden bulge in his trousers.

Futaba languidly giggled, the thin line of her lips glistening with his spit.

"Who knew my first kiss would be a  _Spider-Man_ makeout?"

"Wh-What do you think you're  _doing_ , Miss Sakura?" the principal said, spitting out his words as his skin turned as crimson. He tried looking away from Futaba, specifically the naked curves of her teenage body that she shamelessly put on display for him, but he could only clutch the cushion of his char white-knuckle, panting as his gaze was transfixed to the way her skin practically glowed under the classroom's neon light.

He felt himself grow stiffer, in more ways than one.

Sakura gave him a curious raise of her brow, her head still dangling upside down over the precipice of his desk.

"You don't like Sam Raimi?" she said, before snorting in a chortle. "Don't tell me you prefer that godawful Sony duolo-"

" _Why are you n-naked on my desk._ "

That silenced her, but that was short-lived. Her answer was curt.

"I want you to fuck me."

The principal was dumbfounded. He should have stood up right there and left until she put her clothes back on, but he could only stare at her even more, unable to formulate any other words as the accumulation of his sneaking glances at Futaba's body in the past weeks suddenly reached a bursting point.

What was he supposed to say now, as the girl who simultaneously annoyed the living hell out of him and also never failed to give him a stiffy was offering herself on his desk?

He stayed silent as she bit her lip in a playful grin, and slowly traced a finger down the front of her slender frame.

"Unless... you want me to do it by myself first?" Sakura said, eyes alight. "You should have just said so, teach; I was worried you'd be a vanillafag but I never took you as a voye-"

"M-Miss Sakura," he said, shutting his eyes and trying his best to remain composed. This was going too far. The least he could do in this situation was not look at her, try and not distract himself from his civic duty as a teacher, as a role model. That was what he signed up for, after all. "This is h-highly inappropriate for-"

But his attempts were cut off as he heard Futaba begin to mewl. He tried to continue.

"F-F-For both of u-us and I'm afraid I-"

Her mewls grew louder, and it wasn't long before he could hear something else, something... _wet_.

He cleared his throat, trying to talk louder, more firm.

"Th-This is  _highly_ inappropriate-"

Futaba moaned. Loudly. And accompanying her moan, he could hear the unmistakable sounds of something squelching, wet sounds of fingers slowly pumping in and out, in and out…

His mind was going haywire. He tried to find words again, but he could only think of those small little digits burying themselves inside of that hairless, tight little snatch…

"You've already  _said_ that, teach... _ahn_ …" Futaba said, words huskier and between moans.

He couldn't resist it anymore, and his eyes flew open. His gaze instantly latched to his suspicions: her legs were splayed  _wide_ open now, and those naughty fingers were being sucked inside of her naughty pussy, wetly schlicking as her wrist pushed in expert flicks, thumb rubbing the prominent pink nub of her clit.

"Seriously," she said, another groan coming from her as she made a face he had never seen from her before. "Why...why don't you just be honest with yourself before I cum all over your desk?"

Another gulp, and another second of indecision.

The principal pondered her words. Honesty? Did this little girl really want him to be honest with himself? To show her the reason  _why_ his nose was buried in all those books when he found it a chore to even crack one open?

One more glance at Futaba's sprawled nubile body, and the principal rose from his chair.

He walked, wordlessly to the other end of the office, where the door was. Futaba's heart sank. He was going to call security, then he'd call Sojiro. Hell, maybe he'd even call the cops.

She sank from arousal into regret, preparing herself for the worst when the sound of the door clicking open like she expected was instead the sound of a lock snapping shut.

"Oh, what?" Futaba choked out, her tone a little less certain. "Don't like public stuff?"

"Half the school is about to hear you, Miss Sakura. Think of it more like humiliation."

Futaba gulped. Fuck, that was hot.

She wanted a rise out of him?

She was going to get one. Civil duty be damned.

Without another word and with his face contorted into one of pure hunger, he reached for his belt, and then his trousers, letting it all crumple to the floor.

Futaba curled her finger the moment she saw the sight of his cock prominently poking through his boxers, she moaned out, loud as a squirt of essence stained her hand.

"Fucking finally...come here and teach me what doujins can't,  _teach_."

Wordlessly, he stepped out of his trousers, and obliged.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

"Okay." He breathed, making Futaba sit up on his desk as he lorded over her. His demeanor had changed. He looked her over with such hunger that he resembled a predator that had found his prey, making it obvious that Futaba's little teases over the past few weeks had not gone unnoticed. "But let's get one thing straight?"

"Oh yeah?" Futaba said, biting her lip. Whatever reference she had planned next was caught in her throat.

"That kiss of yours? Terrible."

Before she could respond he was upon her again, this time taking full control with his mouth as he explored hers with his tongue. A surprised moan from Futaba slipped out from between their lips as his tongue did laps around hers. More and more pressure was applied as he did it, pushing her from her sitting position down onto the desk with him on top of her.

He drew away from her, a loose strand of drool drippling onto Futaba's bare chest.

"If you want to try to fuck your way through your problems like the little sluts you seen in doujins" He practically seethed. "I suggest you learn a thing or two about what you're doing."

"Noted." Futaba breathed, her face flushed. "You know, I took you as more of a Shinji than a Jotar-hhh!" She was caught mid reference as her principal claimed her neck, pinning her next quip with his lips.

He suckled and kissed on the skin, relishing in how she squirmed and mewled underneath him. Determined to leave a mark. The first of many. This girl wasn't going to slip her way into  _his_ school. Not for nothing. She'd simply have to work for it like everyone else. If not with her mind, then with this slim body she'd been teasing with, day in, day out.

He'd fallen into temptation with students before, so what was even the point of resisting this one when she was offering herself on a silver platter?

He lasered in on a tit, locking his lips around it and suckling it. The jolt that went through Futaba made her spasm, gasping. Having someone's lips around your nub was an entirely different feeling.

The sensation of the principal's lips on her skin was enough to distract her from the sudden pulsing heat that kissed against her glistening lower lips. By the time felt it, gasping at the sensation of a man's cockmeat kissing against her clit for the first time, it was too late.

He shoved into her with one smooth thrust.

Futaba entire body clenched, and her breath contracted. She hadn't ever had anything in her that wasn't plastic, and the difference was night and day; it was less the size that was a shock to her system and more the sheer, pulsating warmth. The entire weight of his body thrusted into her in a way that her hand and her entire collection of naughty toys could only dream of. It was different in the best possible way, and she was given little time to adjust as he pulled his hips back and snapped them forward, stuffing her again in the span of a few seconds.

Soon he had established a rhythm, and Futaba was getting exactly what she wanted: she was getting speared, stretched out,  _fucked_ on top of this principal's desk. Each thrust gave way to another, growing faster and faster, Futaba's body trying its damndest to keep up as her toes curled, her pussy contracting and clenching as moans were ripped from between her lips.

At this point, any pretenses of a quick, quiet session were gone.

He pinned her by her wrists, legs raised high over either side of him as he thrusted into her soaking, tight snatch. Then and there, he'd decided indulging this girl was worth it. This was easily the tightest piece of cunt he was going to get in this hellhole. The smug little motormouth lay beneath him, face contorted as she shouted and yelped in pleasure. No more stupid puns or references; by the time he was through with her, begging for his cock would be the only thing she'd say.

A dull, loose grip on Futaba's throat was a simple, hollow gesture that made her mind explode. It was the most pleasurable of surprises, and the act of dominance, made Futaba squeal. She came with a squeak, squirting over the desk again in a way both parties would know they would regret.

She rode the shockwaves of pleasure while still being relentlessly thrusted into, tears joining her quim in coating the desk. Wood kept creaking louder and faster as the principal began driving into her in earnest, his thighs slapping into her legs as he groaned. She could feel his balls clench.

"Gh," Futaba grunted as the man above her finally had his own climax, thrusting one last time and vandalizing her walls with his warm, hot spunk. "Mmmmm". She hummed, feeling shot after shot of white goo fill her in ways that she never knew could feel so good, riding out her afterglow as the principal's cock continued to pulse and fill her in buckshots of cum.

 _This is_ way  _better than I thought nakadashi would actually feel..._

Eventually the principal's climax tapered out, the last few shots of nut deposited in her folds. He caught his breath, panting hot exhales that condensated on her naked skin before he took his hands off her sore wrists, and, with teeth gritted, pulled himself out of her. Futaba let out a sigh, feeling the bubbly spunk pouring out of her and onto the desk.

She looked up meekly as she tried to find her bearings after such an intense fucking, only to see that the principal's tool was still as stiff as a board.

As he strutted around to the other side of the desk where Futaba's head was perched, she made to move to sit up before a single, commanding hand on her cheek kept her in place.

The swiftness of it all sent a chill down her spine.

"Clean this up." He said simply, throwing his cock into her face. The thick, soggy organ slapped against her face, dragging slowly across the bridge of her nose and across her glasses. Futaba still lay on her back, staring wide eyed and taking deep breaths.

"Well?" was all it took to spur her back into action.

She didn't have a clue what she was doing.

He sighed up above her, gripping the table and telling her to hold still and slap the desk when she needed air. The command made her stomach drop at the implications, but she didn't have long to ponder as he shoved forward, claiming her mouth with a smooth motion.

He thrusted, getting some gleeful enjoyment of the way she glurked and grunted underneath him. He gave her a little bit more each time, relishing the more passive approach she took. The more she just shut up and let her soft little body get used as the sex toy it was.

"Gluh, glrk, Glmk". Were the only sounds Futaba made. The experience of taking a cock in her mouth upside down was a surreal one, but as her legs twitched and one hand lingered between her thighs while the other gripped the edge of the desk for dear light, she knew it couldn't be an unpleasant one. Her chest was filled to bursting as she was tempted to tend with the fire raging in her loins.

Suddenly her throat started to contract as lightheadedness set in. She gave the desk two firm taps and he got the signal, pulling away to let her catch a few deep gulps of hair. The strand of drool that connected her with his member slowly rested onto her crooked glasses.

The loss of the grip of her tight throat was compensated somewhat by the feeling of slapping his cock against her face. She let out a small moan as the slime creeped across her fogging glasses. It sent little shocks through his pelvis. The friction would have been enough on his own, but using the girl as his cockrest came with its own thrill.

He begun to miss the warm tightness of her throat and tapped her lips as if he was knocking on a door. She bit her lip before opening up obediently and he wasted no time shoving his way back inside her, an audible 'glurk' slipping out from beneath him as she gripped the desk for dear life again.

He resumed, faster and deeper now. The way she clenched around him sent shocks up his spine. He looked down to see she'd taken too kindly to her new position. She rubbed herself openly now with her free hand as her legs twitched and her body writhed. He reached out to give her breast a squeezed and she hummed around him, sending a buzz through his system. She was meant for this. Just as the passenger instead of the driver she wanted to be so badly. Her throat bulged underneath him as she struggled to keep still like a good girl. The only thing more rapid than his thrusts was the way her fingers ruined her own little cunt, scooping the semen he'd previously laid there out.

It was only when his balls were shoved against his glasses that he feel another orgasm coming. He wanted oh so badly to spray the inside of her throat with his seed, but his conscience finally got through to for long enough to reminder that she could very easily choke.

He was right. Futaba was lightheaded as it was. It was hard to say it bothered her with how much it enhanced the whole masturbation thing. It felt too close to a high the way the shocks of pleasure went through her with heightened potency. She wasn't thinking about where the mess would go, despite how much it pretained to her.

He pulled out with a groan, giving his cock a couple of quick strokes before a line of cum shot across her glasses, crossing her lips like a t. She let out a small, cute little gasp as he unloaded shot after shot of cum onto her face. She was very much thankful for her poor eyesight as the glasses protected her wide purple eyes.

She sat up with a groan and pulled the glasses off to assess the damage. "Sheesh. She muttered. "How much of that stuff have you got in you?"

It was a joke with a twinge of anxiety. 'How much longer could he go on?' is what she had to be thinking. It was enough for his member to start hardening again. Fuck.

You reached across the desk to grasp at her waist and yanked her back. She let out an adorably girlish gasp as he snaked behind her and buried his face into her milky neck. She grasped back at his head, putting a hand into his hair as he naped at the sweaty skin, feeling moist kisses peel and drag slickly against her throat. She shuddered once she started feeling his tongue draw shapes against her skin.

"I'm  _pretty sure_ I~ah." She gasped. "I'm pretty sure I passed the admission test by now, teach."

"Not until you pass every subject." He whispered darkly in between kisses.

"And what would the last subject beeeeee?" Futba's voice raised an octave as a finger slipped between her asscheeks. "...well, th-that's a new one for me."

"What  _isn't_ new to you?" He said, reaching a hand around to toy with her breast again.

"Talking too much." She chirped, watching him open the drawer to his desk.  
She was perched off the side of the desk now, letting him spread the cool liquid on her back door. She bit her lips, nerves really getting to her for the first time. He must have sensed it, giving her back a gentle rub and toying with her orange hair.

He pressed his cock against her back entrance, smirking at the way her body flinched instinctively. "Lube in your desk draw? How often do you do this kind of stuff in here?"

She was trying to ease the tension, but that was no fun. The gentle fondling turned into a tight grip as he yanked her head back. "Let's just say your generation is a bit more loose than the last."

Futaba held back a gasp. "You  _are_ a pervert!"

"You're  _just_ figuring this out?"

A beat of silence.

"You're lucky this isn't a traditional exam, Ms Sakura." He said, pressing against her back door with his newly lubed up member.

How o-OFTEN do you rail your students in here?" Futaba stuttered as the cold lube covered organ started to move along her crack.

"It's more like a bad habit I've been trying to kick."

"Bad habit. Yeah, no k- _IDDING!_ " she yelped, the principal shoving his tip into her puckered ass. In contrast, he sighed contentedly, watching as his cock sunk right between Futaba's pale, perky cheeks.

"Well it could have stayed in the past if you didn't parade around naked in front of me for  _weeks_ like a little slut." he said, slowly pushing his way in deeper.

"This is all on  _you,_  and you're going to pay the price." he hissed in her ear. Futaba had no response as she quivered and whimpered at the way he ravaged her. She'd played with her ass plenty, but never with anything as big as  _this._

She felt stretched apart in a way she'd never had in her life, rasped as if her lungs had jumped into her throat. He grabbed all of her breaths with the tip of his cock lodged deep inside her, felt those breaths rip back out with every outwards pull of his thick girth. Her thin frame spasmed and coiled around him as he continued, and Futaba had no choice but to let him stretch her out fully and thoroughly.

She felt those large hands roam up and down the creamy expanse of her naked back, sweeping droplets of her sweat. His fingers clamped and dug into her sides, his possessive grip leaving red marks on her young skin as his cock continued plundering her guts. It all felt so very claustrophobic, especially when his hands smoothed up to her shoulders, keeping Futaba from lying onto the desk, forcing her to arc her back as he started speeding up his thrusts, accelerating the pace at which he split her apart.

In and in and  _in_ again, the principal sawed his fat manmeat into her tightness. Futaba could feel the alien sensation of the lube squelching in her anal pocket, feel it stirred up with the stretching of her rectum. It was so goddamned  _weird_ , something even  _she_ hadn't expected from all this…

...but by the time she felt his balls start to rhythmically slap against her sticky taint, sighing at every slide of his cock in between her asscheeks, Futaba began to realize that this felt  _good_.

As the principal started to hilt himself repeatedly, satisfied at how her ass had been stretched out, he caught the sight of Futaba looking over her shoulder, a string of drool lilting from her lips in a dazed smile.

Jackpot.

Swiftly moving one of the hands at her shoulders to the back of her head, he shoved her face flat onto the desk, her short legs barely touching the floor as he started to rut her properly. Futaba squealed at the sudden move, but he didn't relent. His hips started moving again into a  _real_ rhythm, and he grinned at how Futaba's ass clenched and gripped his cock for dear life.

Her limbs began to spasm and flail, but it wasn't long until her arms were under control, pinned to her back and gripped like a handle bar.

"Just settle down and  _take_  it." he hissed, upping his pace with a groan of his own.

Her legs still twitched but he just spread them apart with his own, pushing further into her and making know attempt to stop her screams as he pushed deeper and deeper into her tight asshole with each shove.

The shuddering and rustling desk was soon joined by the slapping of thighs and an abnormally loud moan from Futaba. Muffled moans through a bit lip finally broke free in a heavenly crescendo. It was almost like a scream. It made his stomach drop in the most satisfying way.

He didn't stop though, letting Futaba continue with her drawn out wails as the sensation dug into her and ran a thread through her entire being. A particularly strong buzz went through her when he went with a particularly hard thrust, sending pleasure through her system and making her release her tension right there. She squirted audibly onto the floor, letting out a moan as her entire body quivered.

The teacher's smirk only grew wider as he stopped to give himself a breather. He gave her a firm, possessive smack and practically came at the way she shook and clenched under him in response. This was the best part. Breaking them in and turning them into fucktoys.

He gave her neck a loose grip, picking up the pace as he forced his full weight onto her. He leaned in close, burying himself into her hair as he went to town on her. He was losing himself in her asshole. He could feel all those wonderful sensations coming back as he got closer and closer to his end. Feeling how her stretched-out anus starting to excitedly clench around his meat, how her skinny body undulated with every hard drive into her.

Cold, damp slaps set a beat that matched the melody Futaba made with her moans. Every thrust into her felt deeper, and with every smack of her perky ass against the principal's crotch, Futaba lost herself, wailing without any restraint at the sensation of pure and utter domination. His grip on her neck tightened further. Futaba let out a raspy choke, feeling fresh pain blossom throughout her body. And with that, she lurched underneath him, and came.

That slick, tight grip that came with her climax brought him in. He let out a harsh gasp and fired a load of cream into her. Futaba yelped at the heat, but eventually settled into the strange sensation, letting out a satisfied hum at every shot of cum that filled up her ass. She bit her lip, clenching her rear muscle with intent as she rode out each buckshot of the principal's climax, feeling his hands clench tight around her.

His guttural groans began to fade, and eventually so did the streams of hot spunk that filled up her stomach. She felt so full, multiple loads of fresh baby batter just sloshing around inside of her as she struggled to catch her breath.

Together the teacher and the student stood like that behind the desk, sweaty panting, skin flush against hot skin.

Eventually Futaba felt his weight on her back, and she giggled at the tickle of his tongue against the nape of her moist neck. His lips feathered up her skin, and she felt the flutter of his nostrils breathing in the scent of her hair. She turned her face around, hazy purple eyes instantly meeting the principal's tired gaze.

Their tongues coiled, lips softly smacking together as the principal's hands soothingly ran themselves up and down her frame. Eventually their kisses grew more intense, and the breath they both just caught began to slip as Futaba rose up to the challenge, bringing one of her hands to cup the principal's cheek as their spit began to drizzle onto her naked shoulder.

The cock still lodged in her ass began to pulse again, and it was at this point that the principal broke their liplock, their tongues unlatching in a hot slurp.

He grinned at her enthusiasm, biting his lip at how she started wiggling her hips to rile him up again.

"Well," he said, pulling back and, much to Futaba's dismay, started pulling out from her freshly-fucked ass. "At least you've learned how to kiss."

With a grunt, he slid out of her, letting out a whistle as thick strings of his cum started pouring out and puddling on the floor. His hands reached out and palmed her ass, each cheek almost petit enough to fit perfectly in his stretched out fingers. He spread them, biting his lip at the sight of her pink, gaping pocket pouring out a continuous stream of his hot nut.

"I'm a fast learner."

The principal looked up at her, and felt his pulse dip at the look she was giving him. He really should have ended this right here, right now. His usual indulgences with previous students were already close enough to getting him in trouble, and even then, none of them had been as extensive as what he did with this little motormouth.

Who knows what sort of rabbit hole he could lose himself in if he kept reciprocating what she demanded of him?

Then his gaze wandered back at Futaba's ass, at the pink lips of her cunt, leaking with strings of tainted quim…

"Do you usually start your games on expert mode?"

His eyes went back up to Futaba's face, and his hands left her body. The question took her aback, but it only took her a second to see what he was hinting at.

"Of course, I'm not a noob."

He smiled, then turned her over, letting her sit up and support herself with her arms. Her small tits glistened enticingly under the fluorescent of the classroom, and his hands were upon them the instant he made his way between her spread legs.

"Good…" he said, words a hot growl against her neck as he immediately began to lay on wet kisses, hickeys, marking Futaba as his, and his alone. He moved a hand to her clit and started to draw circles, making her mewl, whimper under the prowl of his large hands. His cock rose to action again and he pointedly started rubbing it against the outer lips of her pussy.

He peeled his mouth off her milky skin, and shot a hand at her chin, making her look up at him for his final words before he shoved his tongue into that small and naughty mouth of hers.

"...because I'm gonna show you what new game+ feels like."

Even under the brunt of her own horniness and the overwhelming assault of the principal's hands, Futaba couldn't help but sneak in a sly grin.

"Bring it."


End file.
